Come Hell or High Water
by Fallenangel26
Summary: Everyone's writing female captain stories, but "I couldn't resist, mate!" I tried to make mine a little different. Jack's ship has been stolen (again), and he needs help to get it back. The problem is, his help hates him more than anything in the world...


A/N: Hey! I know everybody's writing Female Pirate/Jack Sparrow fics now, but "I couldn't resist, mate!" and I hope mine will be a little different. 

**Title: **Come Hell or High Water

**Author: **Fallenangel26

**Rating: **PG-13

**Full Summary:** Brigid Von Allsburg is captain of _The Peerless_, a peacetime privateer employed to attack non-English ships in the Caribbean. When she and her crew come across an unconscious man floating on a raft in the middle of the ocean, they rescue him. Brigid herself cares for him, feeling strangely draw to the man. But as soon as he wakes up, it all goes straight to hell. The man is Jack Sparrow, and a mysterious pirate claiming to be Barbossa's brother has stolen his ship. Jack wants his ship back, and Brigid and her ship are exactly the people for the job. One small problem. After a bad first impression, Jack and Brigid hate each other. Can Jack overcome his pride enough to ask his mortal enemy to save his ship and prisoner crew? If he asks, will Brigid actually help him? And what is going on with their love/hate relationship? Will everything come together in the end? Or will it all go to pot? And what's with the banana Jack is holding when he reviews his new crew in Tortuga? (Sorry! I figured if I was going to ask all these questions, I might as well ask one I don't know the answer to… ^.^)

**Disclaimer:** Roses are red, violets are blue, me no own, so you no sue!

Please review when you finish reading, savvy? I'd really appreciate it! Flame at your own risk, but constructive criticism welcome! 

Now sit back, relax, and enjoy the story!

Brigid Von Allsburg peered carefully at the horizon through her telescope, a task made entirely too difficult by her precarious position. She was straddling the yardarm of the main topgallant sail, one arm wrapped around the mast, while her seat rocked and swayed beneath her. "Nothing!" she yelled down to her first mate, Jonas Bryce.

Bryce nodded, though Brigid could not see it from her perch. "Very good, ma'am!" he shouted. "Now please come down. Ye've frightened us half t'death!"

Brigid grinned, and thrust her telescope into her belt before grabbing tightly to the rigging, and beginning the _long_ climb down. 

Once her feet were safely back on deck, she made her way to the stern, where she took the wheel from her boatswain. 

"Miss Brigid, ye really shouldn't be galavantin' up there like that, y'know. Gives us lads a fright. Why don't ye let young Jib do it?" complained Bryce, who had followed her across the ship.

Brigid gritted her teeth. "I daresay, Mr. Bryce, that you are most certainly _not _a lad, and you should be used to this 'behavior' by now. And I will _continue_ to check our surroundings when need be, as long as I am physically able. And you cannot talk me out of this, so you might as well save your breath." She punctuated this last statement with a sharp nod. "Now, if we have reached an accord, would you please search out young Jib and send him to me at once?"

Bryce sighed and nodded, before disappearing into the bowels of the ship, muttering about 'mad captains who wouldn't leave well enough alone'.

To Brigid's dismay, when Jib appeared, he was bearing a small tray, filled with food. "Mr. Bryce said you'd better eat this or there'll be hell t'pay" the youngster reported cheerfully, practically shoving the tray into her arms. "He said you hadn't eaten all day." Jib was the ship's cabin boy, a lad of ten or so, named for the most frontal sail on the ship, where he kept watch. There was a rumor that he was so comfortable out there, he could even fall asleep. 

Brigid sighed. "Mr. Bryce is too observant for his own good." Nevertheless, she accepted the tray, and relinquished the wheel to the bo'sun (boatswain). "Jib," she said conversationally. "Where exactly do you come from?"

The lad grinned mischievously. "Well, me da-"

"Captain!" came a shout. "Man overboard!"

Brigid was immediately on her feet. She shoved the tray into Jib's astonished hands and sprinted to where McGinnis, a gunner, was waving frantically, and peered at the horizon. Indeed, about 50 yards from the ship, a figure was sprawled over a chunk of wood.

"Mr. Bryce." She demanded. "Ready a longboat. I want eight men with me, and-"

"Oh no, Brigid. Ye're _not_ going out there if I have enythin' ta say 'bout it!" Bryce interrupted, getting very red in the face.

Brigid glared at him. "Well you don't, so kindly ready that longboat!"

But the man still protested. "At least let me go out there with ye. I'd feel better 'bout it if I could be right there t'make sure ye don't do enythin' stupid-"

"_Mister Bryce_." Grated Brigid. "You will remain here on the ship. That is an order. Am I understood?"

Bryce glared, but was stiffly polite. "Yes Captain, ma'am."

She softened slightly. "Jonas, it's much easier to replace a mad captain who won't leave well enough alone, than it is to replace a loyal first mate." She touched his cheek and climbed into the boat.

Bryce stared after her, as she was rowed towards the waterlogged man. "There's no replacin' you, ma'am…"

Brigid held up her hand as they drew near to their target. The man was draped over what now appeared to be a crude raft, unconscious. "Alright. When we drift close enough, we'll drag him on board. That is, if he isn't already dead." 

As they drew alongside, Brigid leaned way overboard to check the man's pulse. Once she was sure that she wasn't going to be hauling a corpse, she leaned even farther out, wrapped her arms around the man and pulled. He was heavy enough to almost drag her over, but McGinnis grabbed onto her belt and began to slowly haul them back onto the boat. She gritted her teeth and simply locked her arms around the man, allowing McGinnis to almost disembowel her as he pulled her up by her belt. 

When both Brigid and the man were back on board the longboat, she swiftly checked his vital signs. "He's probably swallowed some water but he'll be alright. Looks like he was marooned. Let's get him back to the ship boys!"

As the men rowed back towards the ship, Brigid took a moment to look over the man. He was not handsome, with salt crusted all over his face, and a large amount of junk in his hair. His clothes were torn and stained, and the kohl around his eyes was beginning to rub off. All together he looked like he'd been shipwrecked on an island for the past week, which – Brigid supposed – he probably had.

Just then, they reached the ship, and she spent the next fifteen minutes wrestling the man up onto the deck. 

Bryce was beside himself. "How could ye be so daft?! Leanin' out there like a fishin' rod! If'n McGinnis hadn't been smart enough ta catch ye, we'd be in th' market fer a new Cap'n this minute, and ye'd be visit'n yer dear friend Ol' Hob!" 

Brigid completely ignored him, shouting orders to the two crewmembers as they carried the unconscious man into her cabin. Once he was settled on her bed, she shooed the anxious crew out and closed the door. "Alright, mister. Let's see what happened to you."

She gingerly peeled off his shirt, revealing a tanned chest contoured with thick muscles, and absolutely covered in bruises and shallow cuts crusted in salt. "Dear God…" Brigid whispered. She stuck her head outside her cabin. "Jib!" she called. "Bring me a bowl of water, a cloth, and some bandages. Quickly!"

"Yes'm!" he replied, snapping her a sharp salute and running off. 

A few minutes later, the boy tapped softly on her door. 

"Enter." Brigid called.

Jib slipped inside, a bowl of water carefully balanced in one hand, the other laden down with cloth bandages. "Here ye go, ma'am!" he glanced at the man lying on her bed. "Glory! Pardon me askin', but what happened ta him?"

Brigid shook her head. "I have no idea, but whatever it was, it can't have been nice or pleasant. I suspect we'll find out when he wakes up. Now, if you could set the bowl on the table and put the bandages down by my feet, that would be wonderful. That will be all, thank you."

As Jib quit the room, she dipped the first of the bandages into the water. "Well sir," she addressed the unconscious man. "Let's get you all taken care of…"

Almost an hour later, Brigid walked out on deck, blinking in the light. Immediately, she was swarmed with an anxious crew, all wanting to know if their mysterious guest was all right. She raised her hands for silence. "Our man will be fine. He's been beaten around a little, and was suffering from serious dehydration. I've done my best to treat him, but he's still unconscious."

The crew made noises of assent, and slowly dispersed. 

Once the attention was off her, Brigid sagged slightly, leaning against the wall. Jib was immediately beside her, proffering the tray she had hastily thrown away earlier. "Have summat ta eat, ma'am. Ye must be nigh on starvin'!"

With a sigh, Brigid resigned herself to being doted upon by her cabin boy. She ate quickly, determined that if she was going to be doted upon, it would be for the shortest possible amount of time. After quaffing off the mug of ale, she thrust the tray back into Jib's hands and pushed herself to her feet. "Send my compliments to Mr. Bryce, and ask him to take command of the ship. I'm going to stay with our man. Something about him is still bothering me, and I aim to figure out what. I will be in my cabin if needed."

Jib nodded, noting the dark circles under his captain's eyes. "Yes'm. I'll tell 'im, I will." 

She patted his head as he scampered off, smiling faintly. After a moment of watching her crew – her family – at work, she slipped silently back into her cabin. 

The man hadn't moved, still passed out on her bed. She had thought he would wake as she washed his wounds, pulling half formed scabs off, to wash the salt out. But aside from a bit of weak moaning, he hadn't stirred. She had wincingly stripped him down to his undershorts, searching for more injures, and he was now covered in sporadic patches of bandages.

Brigid sighed and sank down onto the chair next to her bed. "Well, mister. When you get in trouble, you _really_ get in trouble. You're doing better now. You should be all healed up in a fortnight or so." She fell silent as she stared at his sleeping face. _He really isn't bad looking…_ With all the salt cleaned off, and the crusty scabs removed, he was actually quite decent looking. _Sort of…exotic_. She ran gentle fingertips over his brow. To her shock, the man stirred slightly, muttering something too soft for her to hear.

She was on pins and needles for the next half an hour, waiting for him to awake. But to her chagrin, he neither woke nor stirred again. Brigid felt herself slowly nodding off, her eyelids drooping. _No! I have to stay awake! I must stay awake. I can't sleep…Have to…stay awake…Sleep…bad…Don't…fall… asle…_

An hour or so later, Bryce knocked on the door to Brigid's cabin. "Ma'am?" When no one answered, he knocked again. "Miss Brigid? Are you there?" Hesitantly, he poked his head into the room.

A smile softened his face, as he found his captain slumped over in her chair, asleep. 

He quietly crept across the cabin and grabbed a blanket that was piled at the foot of the bed. He tucked the blanket around Brigid and planted a fatherly kiss on her forehead. "Sleep well Captain…" he whispered, closing the door silently behind him.

A/N: Well? Like it? Hate it? Tell me! Savvy?

Luv and Kisses,

Fallenangel(26)


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